if by easy
by spheeris1
Summary: AU :: Ashley POV :: One-shot :: Angst :: Nothing is ever as easy as it could be.


It's easy to look back, you know? It is so very easy to turn your eyes backwards and take a good long glance at the past - and, inevitably, see the very moment where life went so very wrong.

It's easy to stare at that second, that minute or two, and shake your head in remorse.  
>You shake your head and you wish that there was a way to yell out a warning - catch the gaze of who you used to be and shout out like a ship about to capsize.<p>

"Hey! There's an iceberg in your fucking heart! Look out!"

It's easy to be introspective about what has already happened, to analyze it and study it and pretend that this reflection somehow makes you a better person.  
>Or, at the very least, a more aware person. You are no longer blind to your own mistakes and isn't that fantastic? You can now say, without a shred of arrogance, that you were not always so good at making decisions and isn't that very 'adult' of you?<p>

It's easy to look back...

...if, by 'easy', everyone really means 'hard'.

**OoOoO**

"Shit!"

A voice careens from around the corner and then a nice piece of technology skids across the concrete. It doesn't look broken - no chips or dents - but the pretty toy is now marred.

It sucks. We all know that it does. It'll still work but it just won't gleam anymore.

Ashley looks up from the table she is sitting at, eyes moving lazily from the iPhone or iPod or Blackberry. She is not really interested in gadgets, preferring the age-old way of getting in touch with people - just show up at their place and demand attention.

It has worked well so far. It has always worked really well.

Her gaze trails from the device and to the shoes that stand before it. These shoes are not of a child, with heels too thick and laces and a stand-out label. These shoes belong to someone a little more grown-up but not without humor and not without an urge to cut loose.

It's funny to see what you can know about a person by their shoes. A bit of stitched-up leather can say so much more than a mouth sometimes.

Up the legs, encased in nice jeans, and slim hips that carry frustrated hands - perched in dismay and annoyance. They are nice looking hands. They look like the kind of hands that could write a novel or sculpt for hours. They are the kind of hands that people want to hold.

Hands say more than shoes. It's great the way that hands move, too. They speak another language. They don't lie like tongues do.

A blue top, royal and crisp and clean, covering up an average bust-line. And there, at the shoulders, is the first fluttering of blonde hair. Ashley gathers up the full picture as quick as she can, with the sun blinding from background, obscuring the face but outlining the dimensions.

It's like kismet, glorious and out-of-control, this vision in the daylight. It isn't at all how it should have gone and, yet, how could it have gone any other way?

Ashley blinks and every ancient hour of her youth is slammed back into her chest.

**OoOoO**

_Another night of hiding and another night of near fighting, but Ashley is good at switching lyrics in mid-tune - so she does just that._

_It is to save aggravation. It is to have her cake and to eat it, too._

_Spencer is curled up against her side and it feels terribly right, like all good movies promise and like life rarely delivers. Soon, though, the clock will chime and Ashley will have to return this blonde-haired girl to the castle. Soon, they will part and Spencer will return to misgivings and Ashley will return to running._

_"I can hear you thinking, Ash."  
>"Gears too loud, hmm?"<br>"Yep. Hey, Ashley's brain?"_

_And Ashley is smiling in spite of herself, allowing her arms to hold Spencer more securely, feeling safe for a change and feeling love for a moment._

_"Yessss?"  
>"Be quiet and leave my girlfriend alone."<em>

_Ashley chuckles and that covers up the joy that she is feeling, too. She's been had by so many but she has never belonged to anyone. This bit of knowledge fills Ashley with reckless wonder.  
>Spencer's fingers work a slow kind of magic along the exposed skin of Ashley's side - weaving a spell from the top of Ashley's skirt all the way to the ribs.<br>It lulls Ashley's thoughts and only time can ruin an event such as this._

_Time and lies. Lies and fear._

_Still, it is another night of near misses, and they lay together as long as they can._

**OoOoO**

A cloud passes by and this mysterious figure is finally revealed.  
>Of course, Ashley knew it was her.<p>

Who else could it be?

Who else could be here, in New York and so many years later and only twenty feet away, but Spencer Carlin?

Ashley stares, not sure if she should speak up or try to leave before she is caught. Ashley stares and watches the woman bend down, watches Spencer pick up that expensive item with a very visible sigh leaving those very memorable lips...

...and Ashley thinks of clearing her throat, of getting up and approaching, of getting lost in blue eyes that should have never turned Ashley's way in the first place.

But she sits there, frozen solid, as Spencer shoves that iPhone/iPod/Blackberry/whatever into a simple and small black purse.  
>Ashley holds her breath and tells herself that this is all up to fate.<br>Ashley doesn't move at all, waiting to see if this is karma finally catching up to her or if she'll have to linger into another lifetime in order to atone for sins committed.

Even after all this time, Ashley wants to be forgiven.

**OoOoO**

_Ashley supposes that, if she were raised by better parents, this world might not be so difficult to navigate. She'd have a grip on how to console and how to be more understanding. She'd know the difference between friends and lovers, between sinking because you are used to it and swimming to arrive somewhere wonderful._

_Ashley supposes all these things in rapid succession, right as the world fucking ends._

_There is a sheen to Spencer's eyes - like when sunlight hits water - and no painter can truly capture such a gorgeous and broken scene.  
>They all try. They all fail. Ashley should know, being the Michelangelo of heartbreak, after-all.<em>

_Spencer is so beautiful, too.  
>But too damn kind and too damn concerned and too damn easy to wound.<br>Ashley knows these things and that should make her actions go one route, the path of least resistance, but a stubborn tendril strikes out on its own._

_Ashley's hands - not as drunk as her mind, not as callous as her soul - push this random girl off her of lap and there is an audible sound of irritation that follows.  
>This random girl is about to bitch and huff and act like this is her new domain.<br>It'll never be that way, though. This girl will never know a single thing about Ashley Davies._

_The only person who knows anything at all is the one who is silent in this room, the one with the shimmering glare and the clenched fists - the only person who knows Ashley is Spencer and that's not going to be enough this go-around._

_"Spence-"  
>"Go to hell, Ashley."<em>

_And there Spencer goes, walking away as Ashley rushes to catch up, useless platitudes falling from wasted lips and Spencer just doesn't stop walking at all.  
>Ashley yells a lot of things at that point - things about blame, things about patience. Ashley uses the fact that they are still an unknown factor in everyone else's universe - still the best friends, still the door left ajar, still a secret - to make her stupid point and to justify having another girl's hand down her pants.<em>

_Ashley yells and cries. She actually cries her damn eyes out._

_Those damn eyes just won't dry up, either, staying wet and red for days and days._

**OoOoO**

There Spencer goes, walking slowly and about to drift past an immobile Ashley at a metal cafe table, but something must click inside of that lovely head.

Something must trigger a memory and those footsteps stop, then turn, and they return.

"...Ashley?"

In her dreams, long and bitter and surreal, that is the voice Ashley always hears.

"Hey Spencer."

**OoOoO**

_"...Ashley Davies?"_

_Brown eyes swivel upwards and that bored look turns a bit interested at the blonde standing before her. Long legs and tan flesh, such a staple of California, but there is something in that voice that seems too sweet to be of the west coast._

_Ashley smiles and it curls about her mouth like a curious snake._

_"Who is asking?"_

_The girl grins, a bit self-conscious and a bit amused, and Ashley takes her feet off the seat beside her._

_"I'm, uh, Spencer... Spencer Carlin. I was told to talk to you about the, uh, Music Club. Mrs. Harris said it was kind of your thing."_

_Ashley stretches and then gently pats the seat with her palm._

_"Well, sit right down and we'll get to know one another, Spencer Carlin."_

**OoOoO**

It's easy to look back, you know?

It is so very easy to look into Spencer's face and see every place where you have hurt her. It is easy to turn inward and to imagine saying something else, something more, something better.

It's easy to look at the past and see all that love staring right back at you - love was always there, adoring you and needing you, until you pushed love into a corner and gave it no choice but to die.

It's easy to look back...

...if, by 'easy', everyone really means 'horrible'.

They are struggling with words and phrases, stuck on the present and stumbling over all the hours they used to share. They are sitting and standing at the same time; Spencer's hand on the back of the opposite chair and body angled in a strange direction; Ashley still in her seat and one leg bouncing, ready to jettison into oblivion if need be.

"You're... uh... You're living here?"  
>"For now."<p>

'For now', though, is some kind of internal code. 'For now' is an escape plan in syllables. Ashley has been waiting for this, sure, but now that the time has possibly come? She isn't sure that she is ready at all.

"Wow. Me, too."  
>"Small world, I guess."<p>

Spencer nods in agreement or maybe just to rattle her brain a little, to see if there is a way of making sense of this awkward occasion by jiggling the grey matter. Ashley's leg just won't stop moving, a jig for one body part, and the action is making the table shake just a bit.

None of this is easy.

Then again, Ashley isn't dumb enough to think that it would ever be so.

**OoOoO**

_A few weeks, nearing a month, and a new beast is born between them._

_Desire is a fickle and dangerous being, turning your life upside-down and then righting you again, all in the blink of an eye._

_They sit there, close to touching, and Ashley can't help herself.  
>She watches Spencer more than this pointless movie in front of them. She watches Spencer and knows that the blonde is picking up on these not-so-subtle signals.<em>

_The awareness is there at the corner of Spencer's mouth._

_And that is where Ashley longs to be._

_She has never truly 'longed' for anyone. It kind of scares her and it kind of turns her on even more. So, Ashley watches the blonde and Spencer finally looks over, all exasperated smiles and playful shoves to the arm. Like usual. Like always._

_"What?"  
>"Don't freak out, okay?"<br>"...I don't-"_

_Ashley Davies kisses Spencer Carlin, during some film and with only one other person in the theater, and Spencer does not falter when it comes to kissing Ashley in return._

_There is no shocked gasp to muffle. There are no horror-stricken features to contend with._

_They kiss. They give sound to the silent burning within them. They put down colors on all the black-and-white emotions battling inside of them._

_They kiss and change everything for everyone._

**OoOoO**

Ohio to L.A., L.A. to New York, New York to now.

Spencer is lovely to look at. She has not changed, only improved - not that there was much room for improvement to begin with.  
>There are silly comments out there, like comparing women to wine, but Ashley dislikes wine. She won't put Spencer along side something to get drunk off of; that's just a cheap alliance.<p>

You could get drunk off of Spencer, though.  
>You could get bitter off of Spencer, too.<p>

The way Spencer hovers there - by the table and by the chair - is a lot like a deer that's been sighted. Wide eyes and blood slowed down to a crawl, oh so ready to zig-zag away from harm, Spencer is this fragile creature that likes to remain an elusive phantom of the forest.

Or maybe Ashley is just seeing things.  
>Maybe Ashley is just scared of actually looking closely at the woman and seeing no trace of what once was. Maybe Ashley is petrified of living this shame all alone.<p>

"You still drown your coffee in sugar."

It's not a question. It is a fact, laid out in a soft and nostalgic tone.

Ashley smiles before thinking, like she tends to do, and there is a fleeting response upon Spencer's mouth as well.

Spencer, against all odds and probably against all good judgment, remembers things just like Ashley does. All those quirks and all those idiosyncrasies, all those petty fights and all those lasting touches, all that potential and all that agony...

Ashley finally sees it all in Spencer's eyes and, now, there is no looking away.

**OoOoO**

_Why is it a big deal? Why does it matter? Why should they take chances with something so good anyway?_

_And still, Ashley wants to take that crazy leap of faith and Ashley doesn't want to joke around this time around and she isn't content with being a hidden girl anymore.  
>There is world of sun out there and she wants to be in it - not just envying it and hating it from the shadows.<em>

_Why doesn't Spencer want that, too?_

_The shouting downstairs is rising and rising. There are tears, Ashley can hear them as they hit the walls and fall to the floor, and there is some kind of war going on below this bedroom._

_She should jump out the window. She should call up a friend and sneak away.  
>She should have never come over. She should have never wanted this at all.<em>

_And Ashley knows why Spencer is stunted in this affection. She knows the blonde-haired girl is walking on a tightrope, with a new love at one end and a family on the other side. _

_Which way do you go when both directions mean you lose?_

_Ashley knows all of this. She knows and she comprehends and she still wants her fucking five seconds in forever. Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to want this? Is it wrong to need more than gropes in the locker room and making out behind buildings?_

_But the shattered face of Spencer Carlin can still somehow mask all this intent and Ashley is standing there, weak arms and fiercely beating heart, ready to toss every want aside.  
>She holds onto Spencer and listens to the girl sob and the words come tumbling out.<em>

_"She says... she says that if I k-keep seeing you... God, Ash, s-she says she'll move us a-away..."_

_Why is it a big deal? Why does it matter? Why should they try to give this teenage romance more credence than it is probably worth?_

_It'll be over before it really starts... Isn't that right? Isn't that what Paula believes, with the Bible in one hand and threats gripped in the other?_

_Isn't that what Ashley tells herself in the future, with some nameless body on top of her, as Spencer walks through the door?_

_For now, Ashley holds Spencer and swears to lie as long as it keeps the two of them together._

_'For now' is such a temporary place to reside, though._

**OoOoO**

What do you do? Where do you live exactly? How's that brother? How's that mother?  
>When did you pack up and leave? What do you do for fun these days?<p>

Are you alone? Are you with someone? Maybe married, maybe with children?  
>Maybe you've got a string of lovers as long as a river instead?<p>

Why did I let you go? Why was I so fucking scared to have it all?  
>Why can't I forget? Why can't you set me free?<p>

Ashley is not sure who asks these questions. Perhaps they are just roaming around her own mind, begging to be spoken but held back like a bull in the gate. Or is it Spencer's inquiries that hit the air around them, slipping in one ear and getting lodged in the middle somewhere.

They sit there for much longer than anyone should, that's all Ashley knows when the bill comes and the server takes her cup away and the clouds part again.

They sit there and trade inconsequential information and stare too sharply - enough to cut a weaker girl - and they don't say a damn thing. They say it all, they say nothing.  
>It is maddening.<br>It is torture.  
>It is karma, tip fine like a blade, and the red lines run wild over Ashley's body.<p>

"I never meant it hurt you. I never meant to say what I did, not really... I wanted so much from you, from us, from **me** and I wasn't prepared... I wasn't **ready** to love you. I wanted to be ready, more than anything, I wanted to be with you more than anything. But I fucked up and I flipped out on the inside... and I set out to ruin you, I set out to ruin **us**. I thought it would be easier that way. I thought I was taking the easy way out for the both of us."

Ashley is not sure who says these words. It could be her, a lifetime of guilt and regret resting on her rich girl shoulders. It could be Spencer, a knot of lost chances and sorrow taking up residence in her chest.  
>Or maybe it isn't either one of them, as they sit here and say nothing as they say all things.<br>Maybe these sentences are tattooed on Ashley's arms.  
>Maybe these sentences are branded on Spencer's fingertips.<p>

Oh, nothing is easy, though.

You've got to convince people to stay. You've got to prove you are worth the effort made.  
>You've got to treat each kiss like the last one. You've got to mean what you say.<br>You've got to ask for what you want. You've got to live for yourself and not others.

You've got work to do, don't you?

You've got to work at it if you want to earn something.

**OoOoO**

_"Promise me, okay?"  
>"Promise you what?"<br>"Promise me that we'll always... I don't know... be close, be something..."_

_Ashley cannot imagine not having Spencer in her life - as a lover, as a friend, as family - and so the promise leaves her mouth without hesitation._

_"I promise that you and I will always be something, Spence."  
>"And I promise the same. You'll always be in here, always."<em>

_And the blonde-haired girl points to her chest, to where all the love lives in a full heart, then Spencer leans up and brushes her lips against Ashley's.  
>Tender and perfect, that's what that kiss is - that's just how that kiss remains.<em>

_It was the last time they were honest with one another, after all, and you just don't forget a blinding moment of truth._

_They didn't know that at the time, though._

_Ashley returned that kiss and smiled into the surrounding darkness. She smiled because they had it all, right there, they had it all and nothing was impossible._

_They would be together. _

_They would be something._

**OoOoO**

Spencer is walking away and Ashley is sitting there.

And all the things she once shouted, down a hallway and after so many mistakes, don't sound so good to Ashley now. They never truly did sound good, though. They were always words without a target in sight, always excuses and never reasons.

All the things that could have been yelled, all the things that could have stopped Spencer from disappearing, they ring in Ashley's ears like church bells and like sirens from the cliff-side.  
>All the ways they could have healed each other, all the ways they could have fixed what went haywire - all these things rush into Ashley's mind like a flood, bringing everything that should have been to the surface again.<p>

Not that it ever really left.

Not that it was ever really gone from view.

So, Ashley stands up and she starts running, careening past the corner and catching the rippling of Spencer's hair as the woman flags down a taxi. The door is opening and the traffic is getting thick at this five o'clock hour and Ashley takes a deep breath.

**OoOoO**

_It is easy to look back, isn't it? Easy to look back and think that your life was incomplete, incomplete and indifferent, until she came into it... isn't that right?_

_Aren't you falling?_

_Aren't you falling in love?_

_Isn't she something, something unlike anything or anyone?_

_Ashley takes a deep breath and slides her hand over to Spencer's, weaving their fingers into one entity._

_You aren't just falling, though._

_You are already hitting the ground._

**OoOoO**

"You're still something, Spencer... You are still something to me!"

The head goes down and the hand freezes.  
>The door shuts. The taxi cuts back onto the road.<p>

And Spencer looks back.

**OoOoO**

**/end/**


End file.
